


Paperwork

by cylobaby27



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Gen, Rated for Jason's Language, all angst is a road to fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: Jason failed a test at school. Now, he's just waiting for Bruce to kick him out. He knows it's only a matter of time.





	1. Then

Being Batman's ward was the best thing that had ever happened to Jason. It had taken him off the streets, and let him put his energy into helping people instead of needing to steal and fight. Alfred had bought him a collection of clothes from some fancy store, more than Jason had ever owned at once. He could dip into the Waynes' massive library any time he wanted, once he'd proven he knew how to treat a book right.

But there were some downsides. Jason was an accomplished liar, but nothing slipped past Batman for long.

He'd tried more than once at the beginning. Now, almost six months after he'd tried to jack the tires off the Batmobile, he'd mostly resigned himself to Bruce figuring out anything he wanted to keep quiet.

That was why he'd been as tense as a coiled spring since Monday, waiting for the conversation he knew was coming. He'd thrown the test paper into the trash at school, had even torn it into ten pieces in a futile attempt to erase it from history. He'd forged the note from the teacher that Bruce had been supposed to sign, and he knew the signature would pass. But the failing grade was already logged into his school record. It was only a matter of time.

Jason had been warned early on that if he wasn't able to keep his grades up, he wouldn't be allowed to stay on as Batman's new Robin.

Bruce had a lot of flaws, but he never failed to follow through on a threat.

On Thursday night, he insisted that they have a family dinner, and Jason knew the jig was up. Bruce barely remembered to eat without Alfred shoving food on him, and he never stood on ceremony.

Still, even knowing what was coming, Jason liked sitting down with Dick and Bruce in the fancy dining room. Alfred's food was, as always, a blend of high-class and homey that never failed to floor Jason. They had roasted chicken with potatoes and carrots, and a little side salad with the kind of dressing that made the lettuce palatable. Bruce had an unusual glass of wine at the front of his place setting, and he seemed to cling to it. Was he dreading the conversation as much as Jason was?

Dick seemed a little on edge too. He didn't always come back to the Manor. As Nightwing, he was forging his own path, but Bruce must have said something to convince him.

Maybe it was a promise that Dick could come back and be Robin again soon.

"Everything okay, Jason?" Bruce asked.

Jason nearly broke his plate when he slammed his fork down and looked up. "What? Yeah, fine."

Bruce looked at him with those eyes that never missed anything. "Let's talk in the library after dinner," Bruce said, and it wasn't a question.

Jason slumped.

Across the table, Dick was trying to motion with some complicated sign language out of Bruce's eyesight, trying to communicate something, but Jason couldn't focus on him. This was it. The last meal of the condemned.

The rest of dinner tasted like ash in Jason's mouth.

Bruce and Dick tried to draw him into light conversation, but gave up when his answers were all monosyllabic. They exchanged a look he couldn't read. After so much time working and living together, they had an entire language of glances and raised eyebrows.

When Alfred finally cleared away the dishes, including the dessert that neither Jason nor Bruce had touched, they left Dick behind and went to the library.

This room had been Jason's favorite when he'd first moved into the manor. At home, and then on the street, it had been almost impossible to get his hands on a book. He'd go into Gotham Public Library and sit for hours reading, but he never had the right identification or proof of housing needed to get a card of his own to check things out.

Probably for the best. It was hard to keep precious things safe out there.

Maybe he could steal a book or two when he left. He'd learned so much as Robin. He could figure out how to keep himself and his things safe.

Unable to look at Bruce yet, Jason walked over to the bookcase and picked up a heavy book. It was one he'd been meaning to read, but had thought that he had time to get to later.

" _The Count of Monte Cristo_?" Bruce asked, coming up behind him. "I love that one. Did you want to read it?"

"No, it's fine," Jason said tensely, putting it back down. He'd pick a smaller one.

"Let's sit down," Bruce suggested.

They sat in the plush armchairs Jason loved in the middle of the room. The soft seat threatened to swallow Jason, so he sat on the edge of it.

"So, I get the feeling you know what I want to talk about?" Bruce sounded more uncomfortable than ever. He was always bad at emotional conversations, and he had to have known this could turn into an emotional explosion. Jason decided then that he wouldn't react to the news. He'd be as cold and composed as Batman in the worst situations, and prove he'd learned something over the last few months.

He nodded. He wanted to check his own reflection in one of the glass bookshelf doors, but refused to break eye contact. Let Bruce suck it up and say this to his face.

"Oh." Bruce seemed even more discomfited. "I didn't think it would...upset you."

"Upset? I'm not upset," Jason said.

"Right. Then, is there anything you want to talk about, before...?"

Jason took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know that doesn't make things right, and I know I still have to leave, but. You should know that it was a dumb mistake. I wasn't trying to be irresponsible. I thought I could handle it. I really did." To his horror, he felt his eyes getting hot. "We were both fooled, okay? I'm apparently stupider than I thought, and I bombed it."

Bruce's eyes were wide. "Jason, what are you talking about?"

"The fucking test!" So much for not exploding. "I didn't study because we were up late and because I'd wanted to go grocery shopping with Alfred that afternoon, but I told you I could handle my grades anyway, and I was wrong. Is that what you wanted to hear? You want me to own my mistakes? I fucked up. You trusted me, and I dropped the fucking ball."

It was a testament to the seriousness of the situation that Bruce didn't correct his language. "There's been a misunderstanding."

"It's not a big deal," Jason said, grasping desperately for the frayed edges of his control. "I was fine before. I'll be fine again. I knew this was temporary. I learned some kickass fighting stuff. That counts for a lot. I'm not going to cry or make a big fuss or anything. I told you-- I'm practically an adult."

"Jason," Bruce said firmly, and handed him a manila folder.

Jason opened it cautiously and stared at the official form inside. He couldn't understand it.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not throwing you out. I'm adopting you."

The headline of the document was 'Order of Adoption.' His eyes danced to the names printed in bold type. JASON PETER TODD. And, the approved petitioner, BRUCE ROBERT WAYNE.

The folder dropped to the floor.

"I thought you knew," Bruce said, voice weak. "I thought I'd made it clear that you were part of the family. That we wanted you to stay."

"You..." Jason swallowed. "I failed a test, Bruce. A big one."

Bruce shook his head. "That doesn't matter, Jay."

"You said, you said that if I couldn't keep my grades up, I couldn't be Robin," Jason said.

"I meant that if your grades started to slip, I'd bench you until you got them back up. But that's Batman and Robin. This," he said, pointing at the adoption paper on the floor, "is Bruce and Jason."

"There's a difference?"

Jason had punched Bruce to less effect. The man looked horrified, though an outsider wouldn't have been able to read the creases by his eyes. "Being my ward was never contingent on being Robin," Bruce said slowly and clearly.

"Yeah, because I'm sure you bring any old orphan into your fancy manor," Jason said.

"If you decided right now that you wanted to live a quiet, normal life, and be part of the Wayne family without being Robin, I would be _relieved_ ," Bruce said. "I brought you back here because you needed help, and I thought I could give it. Like with Dick, some of that meant finding a outlet for your anger, your need to fix this city. I thought that, like with Dick, you'd find a way to get on the streets with or without my help, and I'd rather you had my training than trying it on your own." Jason tried to interrupt, but Bruce pressed, "Like with Dick, I'm offering this adoption to you because I want you to feel secure as a part of this family, with or without the cape."

"So you care more about charity than about justice?" Jason asked, skeptical.

"I care more about you than about justice." Bruce shook his head. "This isn't charity, Jay-lad. I'm bad at this. My parents died when I was young. I'm still learning what family means. I just know that I want you to be in mine."

Jason swallowed. "You mean it?"

"Of course," Bruce said. "You thought I was about to kick you out. That paperwork means that your place here won't ever be questioned again. If you want it, this family is yours. Then again, if you thought I was going to send you back to the streets over a bad grade, you might not want to stay here. I should have made sure we were on the same page before I finished the paperwork. It's not too late to undo, if that's what you want."

"Don't you dare," Jason choked. He lunged forward. Bruce lifted his arms just in time to catch Jason. His grip was solid and sure, like he'd be able to hold Jason together in the face of everything that might come at them. Jason pressed his face into Bruce's shoulder. Even after just six months, his scent was familiar and comforting.

Jason held on for a long time, hoping that his ragged breathing wasn't as obvious as it felt. Tears were hot in his eyes, and he couldn't stop them from slipping down his cheeks. He hoped they weren't bleeding through Bruce's shirt. His emotions felt as though they'd been on a roller coaster-- from being a moment away from being thrown out the door, to being adopted.

After his mom had died, Jason hadn't thought he'd ever find somewhere he'd feel safe again. Here, in the manor (and in Bruce's grip) he felt more than safe-- he felt home.

Finally, once Jason's breath had steadied, he pulled back. "Thanks," he said.

"Thank _you_ ," Bruce said solemnly. 

Jason grinned and scrubbed at his eyes quickly. "Does Alfie know?"

"Yes. He's been waiting for me to do this for weeks now. Dick knows too. He's waiting downstairs to say 'I told you so.' He warned me that I was bad at this. His version was difficult too, though not as much as this was."

"It turned out okay," Jason said with a shrug. He laughed. "I'm not getting into this thinking that you're great at feelings, B. I _have_ met you."

"But you want to join the family anyway?" Bruce sounded uninterested, but Jason could see the sharpness in his gaze. Jason's answer mattered to him.

"Yeah, how else am I going to inherit the Wayne fortune?" he asked. Rolling his eyes, he said, "Of course I want in. You guys took me in. You put up with the swearing and me trying to steal your tires, and you still helped me. You watch old movies and mutter the lines to yourself. You let me borrow your fancy first-edition books. And Dick and Alfred have been there from me since the beginning too, even though I was an ungrateful brat."

"You had trust issues," Bruce said.

"Understatement of the year."

"We all do," Bruce reminded him. "That's okay. We'll figure this out together."

Jason grinned. "I can live with that." He picked the abandoned adoption paper off the floor and held it close.

"We are going to talk about that failed test, you know," Bruce said mildly.

Jason winced. "I was hoping you'd forget about that."

"Next time, one of us will study with you," Bruce said. "With me and Alfred around, there's no excuse for failing anything. If you need to sit out a night of patrolling, you know Dick will step in."

"I, uh, guess that's what families do," Jason said tentatively.

"It's what ours does," Bruce said.

"You mind if I do go ahead and borrow that book?" Jason asked, nodding toward _The Count of Monte Cristo_.

"Go ahead. I'll be curious to hear your thoughts," Bruce said. "I have some work to do in here. You can stay, if you want."

While Bruce worked at the desk, Jason curled up in the armchair and started to read. When he held his breath, he could hear Bruce breathing across the room.

The adoption form stayed tucked against his chest, safe against his heart.


	2. Now

Even with all the training Jason had gone through with Bruce, then with the League, and then on his own, it was difficult to break through the Manor's security without detection.

Though he'd learned some technological basics in addition to finding out the best ways to shape his body into a killing machine, there were others on Batman's team who would be able to out-hack him any day. Between Tim and Babs, the only reason Jason was able to make it as far as he did was because, technically, he was on the Manor's full-access list. Even then, the Manor should have alerted one of the guard-dogs that someone had slipped through the library window, but Jason did have some skill.

When he landed in a crouch in the library, the carpet muffling his landing, no one was the wiser.

It was a good thing he'd gotten over his phase when he'd been considering murdering the bats, or they'd be in trouble tonight.

Jason crept across the library toward Bruce's desk, which was still tucked in the same corner. The surface had changed over the years, though it was still less personal than anything one could find down in the Cave. There was a set of merchandized Batman pencils in a cup to one side that Tim had bought as a gag gift. A simple glass paperweight sat on a stack of folders-- the classic design was all Cass. Damian hadn't left any tokens behind, but the white hair that clung to the chair was undeniably from his cat.

So many signs of Bruce's new life, the one he'd built after Jason had died.

There was nothing of Jason on the desk. There was barely any Jason in the house at all, now that his ravaged Robin costume had finally been burned. He avoided family photos. He didn't leave behind trinkets for Bruce like the others did. For a while, after he'd been adopted, he had loved to buy bits and ends for his new family. After years in poverty, it was a luxury to be able to buy unnecessary things and have the space to keep them.

Dick and Alfred might have kept his silly gifts, but Bruce had hidden them away after he'd died. Jason had never asked why. He thought it was the same reason that he had never picked up the habit of buying things again. Stuff collected memories, no matter how cheap or useless it was. And memories had weight.

Most of the time, that weight was too much to volunteer for. Jason was only just starting to think that, maybe, there were times it was worth it.

Jason unzipped his bag and pulled out the leather-clad book tucked inside. He'd found this edition at a used bookstore in the center of Gotham. Though the copyright page said it had been printed in the forties, it had been kept pristine.

Jason set the book on the center of the desk where it couldn't be missed. He ran a thumb over the title-- _The Count of Monte Cristo_ \-- and then tucked the envelope inside the front cover.

"Jason?"

Jason whirled around, hand going for the gun on his hip, but he was already processing the voice. Bruce.

The man was standing at the entrance to the library, dressed in soft civilian clothes. There was more gray at his temples than there had been when Jason had first met him, and more lines by his eyes.

He was still shit at talking about his feelings, but he'd gathered a bigger family to practice with.

They had been at odds for so long after Jason's return. It had taken time and slow, painful steps for them to trust each other again.

Jason had learned young not to give second chances. On the streets, that kind of sentimentality could get you killed. But Bruce had earned it over time, and Jason had to fight just as hard to make up for his own betrayals.

When they weren't in a screaming match or giving each other the silent treatment, they'd been treating each other with kid gloves. Jason still hadn't relearned where he could poke or prod this new Bruce without causing an explosion. Bruce reacted to stress by shutting down, and was too afraid of stumbling over one of Jason's triggers to push him.

Still, they'd found a cautious rhythm together. They patrolled together, and Jason came to family events when his siblings bullied him enough. Jason had caught Bruce smiling, even with only his eyes, when Jason was a part of the group.

"I didn't know you were here," Bruce said, his eyes taking in everything. Jason hadn't closed the window yet-- he'd been planning on a quick exit.

"Losing your touch, old man," Jason said. "I was just heading out anyway."

Bruce crossed the room, and Jason couldn't bring himself to go yet. He stopped at the desk, and then picked up the book Jason had been leaving behind.

"What's this?"

"I, uh, thought I'd finally replace the copy I took." Did Bruce even remember the first night Jason had read it? He wasn't willing to bring it up first. That seemed like opening up his jacket to reveal a gaping wound he'd been trying to hide. "I should go."

Bruce ignored him. He picked up the book, which fell open to reveal the envelope.

Jason took a step back. "Kind of funny that we bonded over a book all about revenge, right? Sometimes life is too on the nose," he said.

"'Life is a storm, my young friend,'" Bruce recited quietly.

When Bruce opened the envelope, Jason stilled. He felt jittery and unbalanced. He hadn't wanted to be here for this, but he couldn't leave while it was happening.

Bruce unfolded the paper inside, and then he froze too.

"I had to ask Babs for help with the hacking and filing. I figured we didn't want to go through the main channels. We used Todd as the first name this time, since the last Jason in your custody ended up in a cemetery. It seemed weird. Still, I thought maybe... Well, Jason Todd died. That paperwork died with him. I thought that..."

Bruce held up the paper. The adoption form had changed slightly since the one Bruce had handed him those years ago, but the important information was all there.

TODD J. WAYNE.

"Surprise," Jason said weakly. "It's a boy."

"You're letting me adopt you again?" Bruce asked. It was impossible to read his tone.

"You said last time that the paperwork would mean that my place in the family couldn't be questioned," Jason said. "With the rest of the crew already in line for that Wayne inheritance, I thought I should restake my claim."

"You've always been part of the family, even when we were both too lost to see it," Bruce said. He splayed a hand over the adoption form.

"So... You don't mind? If I take the name 'Wayne' this time?"

Bruce looked up at him. "You're welcome to my name, and anything else I have." He glanced over at the open window. "You were just going to leave this here?"

"I thought you should know you had another dependent you could claim on your taxes," Jason said. "I didn't know... I wasn't sure how this conversation would go."

Bruce shook his head. "That's my fault. I should have been more clear. That's always my problem, isn't it? Communication. I'm sorry I didn't offer to redo these before. I didn't think you'd accept."

"You've thought about it?"

"Of course I've thought about it," Bruce said. He sounded angry, but Jason knew him well enough to see that it was self-directed. "I hated when you acted like you weren't really a part of this family. You've always been... You've always been my son."

"Shit, B," Jason said weakly. The well of emotion was almost too much to handle. "I was kind of hoping you'd be the one who cried about this. Don't make me emotional."

Bruce laughed. "I don't say it enough, Jay-lad. I don't say anything enough." He brushed a thumb over the paper again. "I guess you already know, though."

"Yeah, you emotionally inept lug. I know."

Bruce's hug wasn't as enveloping as it used to be. His scent, though, Jason thought as he tucked his nose against his dad's shoulder, was the same as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://starknjarvis27.tumblr.com/)!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Paperwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16050614) by [cylobaby27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27)




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